


Werewolves Are For Napping

by normalcatbehaviour



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2487398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/normalcatbehaviour/pseuds/normalcatbehaviour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is not <i>drunk</i>, he’s tipsy at most. And Derek’s a werewolf with magic non-drunky powers, so clearly the only explanation here is that Isaac is a liar. (Stiles has a vague memory floating around his head of Deaton saying <i>It’ll only be temporary, he’ll be back to normal within a week. I know this isn’t exactly something you want to do again, but it really could solve a lot of your problems in one go</i>, but he disregards it. It’s probably not important.)</p><p>What definitely <i>is</i> important is that obviously Isaac’s a lying, deceitful man - Stiles has always said this, it shouldn’t a surprise to anyone. A liar with really pretty hair that Stiles wants to either pet or shave off and make into wig, he can’t decide -- but that’s besides the point.</p><p>“Does he know he’s talking out loud?” Isaac asks.</p><p>“Cuddles, Derek!” Stiles demands holding out his arms from his spot lying on the couch. “Werewolf cuddles and a nap.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Werewolves Are For Napping

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd as usual, please forgive any mistakes I missed.
> 
> Even I'm not sure what 'verse this takes place in. The pack's mentioned but the only ones mentioned by name are the ones I've tagged, so feel free to imagine whoever you want dead or alive.

“They are so drunk,” Stiles hears Isaac say over the loud - _so loud_ \- spinning of the room.

Which - that means nothing, okay? Stiles is not _drunk_ , he’s tipsy at most. And Derek’s a werewolf with magic non-drunky powers, so clearly the only explanation here is that Isaac is a liar. (Stiles has a vague memory floating around his head of Deaton saying _It’ll only be temporary, he’ll be back to normal within a week. I know this isn’t exactly something you want to do again, but it really could solve a lot of your problems in one go_ , but he disregards it. It’s probably not important.) 

What definitely _is_ important is that obviously Isaac’s a lying, deceitful man - Stiles has always said this, it shouldn’t a surprise to anyone. A liar with really pretty hair that Stiles wants to either pet or shave off and make into wig, he can’t decide -- but that’s besides the point.

“Does he know he’s talking out loud?” Isaac asks.

“If it was anyone else I’d say no but it’s Stiles, so who the hell knows,” Scott replies fondly. “It’s not like he hasn’t said shit like this to you sober.”

“Fuck you and your scarves, Lahey!” Stiles mumbles in agreement. The scarves are a classic insult these days, even though it’s really nothing near an insult anymore. It’s not even an endearment, it’s so much _more_. 

Scarves are their _always_.

“See!” Scott says happily, and Stiles realises he may have been doing that whole _talking out loud_ thing again. “He loves you really.” 

“S’true,” Stiles slurs. “You kept Scott safe that one time, with the pixies, so you’re totally golden _five ever_. S’more than forever, you know.” 

Isaac may be a lying liar that lies, but he’s a lying liar that also has his bro’s back pretty much all the time, not just when there’s pixies intent on causing havoc by stealing the local Alpha. Stiles wonders if maybe the pixies wanted Scott because he’s _Scott_ , not because he’s the Alpha. He wouldn’t really blame them if that was the case - Scott’s the best. He has pretty hair too. If Scott and Isaac had a baby it would have the prettiest hair in the _world_. 

“Oh my God,” Isaac says gleefully.

“M’not drunk though,” Stiles insists belatedly.

“Okay, Stiles, you’re not drunk,” Scott says. “You’re sober and just doing an impression of the Leaning Tower of Pisa for the hell of it. It’s really very impressive.”

“So many big words,” Stiles starts before finally losing his balance and starting to topple over. He waits a few seconds for the ground to hit him, but it doesn’t happen.

“Scott, I think I broke gravity,” Stiles says, patting the arms around his waist. _Oh_ Stiles thinks, _Someone’s holding me up. Awesome._.

“Alright, you need to sit down.” Stiles isn’t even sure who says that but it sounds like the best idea _ever_.

“I do,” Stiles agrees. “I also need to nap,” Stiles says very seriously. “Naps make everything better, Scotty.”

Scott tries not to laugh. “Okay, Stiles. Let’s get you some water and then get you to bed so you can nap.”

“Nooo,” Stiles whispers. “Beds aren’t for napping, beds are for _sleeping_. How do you not know this?”

“If beds aren’t for napping then what is?” Isaac asks, already having given up on not laughing, while Scott fetches two glasses of water from Derek’s kitchen.

“Couches!” Stiles claps his hands joyfully.“Couches ‘nd werewolves.”

“Werewolves are for napping?” Isaac asks through now wheezing laughter.

“My pillow, Scott,” Stiles ignores Isaac and blurts as Scott comes back from the kitchen, handing one of the glasses to Derek as he passes him. “I don’t have my pillow. How am I meant to sleep without m’pillow?”

Scott shakes his head, makes Stiles drink his whole glass of water, then maneuvers him until he’s splayed across the couch.

“I thought you were napping, not sleeping. Do you need your pillow for that?”

“Hmm,” Stiles says, serious face coming out once again. “I s’ppose not. As long as I have my Derek, I’ll be e’cellent.”

“Your Derek?”

Derek, who up until this point had been swaying dangerously on his feet while being amazed by how delicious water suddenly is, looks up when he hears his name.

“Cuddles, Derek!” Stiles demands holding out his arms from his spot lying on the couch. “Werewolf cuddles and a nap.”

“Yesss,” Derek replies before shuffling with exaggerated care across the room, shoving his half drunk glass of water into Isaac’s hands, and flopping down on top of Stiles. “Huggles, cuddles, nap, nap, nap.”

Derek closes his eyes, smacks his lips together a few times, rubs his cheek against Stiles’ chest, and promptly passes out.

“Aww,” Stiles says, wiggling slightly to get comfortable without disturbing Derek, giving up after a few seconds and closing his eyes as well.

There’s silence in the loft for a good few minutes, and Stiles has completely forgotten there’s anyone other than himself and Derek there. He’s on the edge of sleep, his hands barely still absently combing through Derek’s hair, when Isaac says, “We should have filmed that.”

“Oh yeah,” Scott agrees. “Derek Hale saying _huggles_ alone, man. We’d be rich.”

“Also dead,” Isaac adds.

“So incredibly dead,” Scott agrees again.

If they keep talking after that, Stiles doesn’t know, because he follows Derek into sweet unconsciousness.

 

When Stiles wakes up the next morning, Derek’s still on top of him, and still soundly asleep. Stiles has never been one to suffer alone, so he pokes Derek gently in the side until his breathing changes slightly and Stiles knows he’s awake.

“What happened last night?” Stiles asks roughly.

Derek yawns, big enough that his jaw makes a noise far too similar to bones breaking for Stiles’ to be comfortable with when he’s this tired and this hungover. “I have no idea. I remember tequila, someone losing a shoe, and literally nothing else.”

“I think I remember something apple flavored? Also, I’m about ninety percent sure it was my shoe.”

Derek opens his eye to squint at Stiles judgingly and instantly regrets his decision.

“Oh God,” Derek says, burying his head in Stiles’ shoulder to block out the sun. “I’ve never missed my werewolf powers more.”

“Mph,” Stiles manages.

“Why do humans do this to themselves? Nothing is worth this feeling.”

“It’s just a hangover, c’mon.”

“Stiles, I’ve been shot with wolfsbane bullets that hurt less than my head hurts right now.”

“Then _stop talking_ and go back to sleep.”

“Did I seriously just get told to stop talking by Stiles Stilinksi? What has my life become?”

“All the better for knowing me, that’s what.” Stiles pokes Derek gently in the side again. “Now, shush, or no more kisses for you ever again.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Derek murmurs fondly, already almost back to sleep. “Maybe I don’t want to kiss you anymore.”

“Lies!” Stiles mock gasps. “You always want to kiss me. I have that in writing. _This was all a misunderstanding. I didn’t kiss you because you were convenient, I kissed you because I always want to kiss you. Please give us a chance_.”

“Can’t believe you have that memorised,” Derek says trying to not grin.

“Course I do. S’going in my vows when we get married.” Stiles would maybe feel self conscious about giving away that much information so soon - they’d only got their acts together and actually admitted they were in fact _dating_ not just close friends that acted slightly couple-like a few weeks ago - but he’s too tired to care. “Kisses and then go to sleep, Derek.”

Derek leans up, kisses Stiles on each cheek, on the tip of his nose, then softly on the lips, before lying his head back down on Stiles’ chest.

“Love you,” Derek says absent-mindedly through a yawn. 

“Mm, I know,” Stiles says, pulling Derek impossibly closer to him and praying for the drumline in his head to stop.

 

“I feel like we missed something important,” a voice says a few seconds later from somewhere behind Stiles, startling him enough that he manages to accidentally push Derek off the couch.

“Shit,” he says. “Sorry! But what the fuck--?”

“Oh my God,” says a different voice. Stiles peers over the back of the couch to see Isaac and Scott standing there, both with looks on their faces that Stiles would probably remember and laugh about later. Later, when he isn’t very hungover and just as confused as they seem to be.

“What are you two doing here?” Stiles asks blearily. “And why are you both being here so loudly?”

“We just, uhh...” Isaac trails off. Stiles notices Scott’s wearing his guilty face and waits for him to inevitably break under the pressure of Stiles’ silent judgement.

“Well, last night you and Derek were kinda… And so we maybe thought…” He looks at Isaac desperately before finally blurting, “We came to make fun of you for being all snuggly! Also possibly to film it for YouTube purposes.”

 _Of course they did_ , Stiles thinks slightly hysterically. _It’s too early in the morning for this._

“How’s that working out for you, Scott?” Scott grins weakly, stutters out a nervous laugh. “How long have you two even been standing there?”

“Only about twenty minutes,” Isaac offers, like that’s a normal amount of time to watch your friends sleep for any reason. “We forgot that Derek wouldn’t wake up as soon as we got here, so, you know. Waiting happened.”

“I was wrong,” Derek says from where he’s still lying on the floor. “ _Now_ I’ve never missed my werewolf powers more.”

Stiles snorts out a laugh only to immediately clutching his head and groaning in pain. Scott leans over to put a hand on Stiles forehead, and Stiles feels the pain ebbing away.

“Bless your magic hands, Scotty,” Stiles moans. “Touch me forever.”

“Okay!” Derek says, sitting up and directing a scowl at where Scott’s still got his hand pressed to Stiles’ forehead. “Hands off my boyfriend and get out of my apartment. If I find out that there’s a single second of video of us on YouTube I won’t bother to wait until I get my wolf powers back to rip out both of your spleens.”

“Boyfriend?” Isaac asks, happily ignoring everything else.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, bro!” Scott says frowning. “Congrats though.”

“Yeah,” Isaac nods along before a panicked look comes over his face. “Does this mean we could have walked in on you fucking? Scott, my _eyes_. I don’t ever need to see that. Look what you almost did!”

“What _I_ almost did? This was at least sixty percent your idea-!”

“Out!” Derek whisper shouts, interrupting them.

“Okay, okay! But remember, don’t be late tonight,” Scott says as Isaac drags him out the door. “Deaton said something about fairy rings and time scales and it needing to be exactly a week. We probably shouldn’t keep them waiting--”

“Bye, Derek. Bye, Stiles,” Isaac calls over Scott’s babbling, closing the door behind them.

And then there’s blessed silence. Stiles is almost asleep again when the thought occurs to him.

“Wait,” he says, making Derek groan slightly. “They didn’t know? They should have known. I thought you told everyone.”

“I thought _you_ did,” Derek replies.

“...Oops,” Stiles says. “We’re never living this one down.”

“Mmm,” Derek says noncommittally.

“Well, at least they know now. That’s what matters, right? Scott can’t hold this against me forever?”

“Mmm,” Derek says again.

“Fine,” Stiles says, “I can take a hint. Less talking, more sleeping. Don’t worry about the fact my best friend possibly hating me right now because we accidentally kept a massive secret from him. It’s fine.”

Derek sighs, lifts his head and waits until Stiles looks him in the eyes. “Scott’s happy when you’re happy. Are you happy?”

“I am,” Stiles admits. “You make me unbelievably happy, you know you do.”

“I do. It took me a long time to believe it and even longer for you to convince me that I deserve you making me feel the same way, but I do know it,” Derek says lovingly. “And as soon as Scott knows that he’ll be too happy to be mad. Now go to sleep.”

Stiles subtly blinks the tears out of his eyes, kisses the top of Derek's head, and drifts off thinking about fairies and shoes and waking up beside Derek for the rest of his life.

 

“So,” Stiles says later, looking around Deaton’s at where the whole packs gathered. “Me and Derek are dating. We may have forgotten to tell you all, so here’s your announcement. Ta da!”

Stiles ignores Derek facepalming and shaking his head, focuses instead on the pack offering their congratulations, and laughing slightly at the couple of ‘ _about time_ ’s he hears mixed in. He accepts the hug from his dad and the light punch on the shoulder he gets from Lydia.

“You forget to tell me something this important again and I’ll have your jeep delivered to your doorstep in a tiny cube of crushed hopes and dreams,” Lydia says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Stiles laughs properly then. She always does know just what to say. 

“We promise to communicate better next time,” Stiles says, grinning at Lydia before moving back to lean against Derek.

“And we promise we’ll never try to film you two again,” Scott says earnestly, causing Isaac to choke on air and elbow him sharply in the side. There’s a somewhat stunned silence and Stiles frowns in confusion before the realisation of how that may have sounded hits him. He opens his mouth to say _something_ , he doesn’t know what, but his dad beats him to it.

“For my sake, please don’t elaborate on that any further,” the Sheriff says faintly.

“Oh my God, Dad, _no_ ,” Stiles screeches. “Scott! I’m going to kill you!”

“Sleeping! We won’t film you sleeping!” Scott tries.

“Not helping, Mccall,” Derek says long-sufferingly.

Stiles briefly considers finding a hole in the ground to spend the rest of his life in, hiding from the embarrassment of this moment, but he looks around Deaton’s once more, sees his pack laughing, his dad shaking his head fondly at Scott’s rambling attempt to fix the mess he made, sees Derek staring at him with what Stiles can only describe as _heart eyes_ , and knows that there’s not a thing in the world embarrassing enough to make him want to run and hide anymore. Not from his pack; his family. Not from his Derek.

 

(When Derek’s wolf powers are returned to him later that evening, Stiles finds himself a little sad that Derek won’t be his snuggle-y drunk boyfriend again.

“You know I don’t actually need to be drunk for that, right?” Derek says, eyebrow raised.

“You’re going to regret saying that so much, Hale,” Stiles crows. “There will be hugs, Derek! _So many hugs_.”

Derek hits him in the face with a pillow, but when a minute later they’re spooned up against each other on Derek’s couch, Stiles knows neither of them will regret it at all.)

**Author's Note:**

> I disappeared from AO3 for a while! Many rl things happened, including my laptop dying on me when I was mid way through 2 longish fics which was kind of heartbreaking. 
> 
> Anyway! This fic was something that's been floating around in my head for a while, and even though I kind of imagined it as part of a bigger story, I've had writer's block like no one's business so this is all I've got. I'm hoping it doesn't seem unfinished or anything like that, but I do find it difficult to judge my own writing so although I think it makes sense on its own, please let me know if I've overlooked something and it doesn't.


End file.
